I Don't Believe in Ghosts!
by Shadow of the Forgotten
Summary: As if being a teenage spy wasn't bad enough, now he's seeing ghosts. Yeah, Alex's life officially sucks.


Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever own Alex Rider or any other characters in the Alex Rider series.

* * *

When the sun filtered through the blinds, the fair-haired boy on the bed yawned and burrowed deeper into the thick blue comforter he was sleeping under. It had been awhile since he'd had time to relax, what with all those missions from MI6 lately, and he fully intended to take advantage of his day off.

Rolling onto his side, he pressed his nose against the material and sighed happily. Jack had used her 'girly' detergent when she'd washed it the other day, Usually he detested that scented crap, but the sweet smelling lavender was very soothing and he made a mental note to ask her to use it on his bedding from now on . . . so long as she promised not to tell anyone of course. His reputation was bad enough without having word spread that he liked sleeping in _girly_ smelling sheets.

Extremely comfortable, Alex had no intention of leaving his warm cocoon. The world could self destruct around him for all he cared; nothing was going to ruin his perfect day.

He must've dozed off because the next time he opened his eyes the sun had risen above his window and the room had darkened without the bright rays shining in. Guessing it was nearing noon, he fully intended to go back to sleep. Jack was scheduled to be gone until tomorrow morning and he hadn't made any plans so no one would care if he spent all day in bed. Something he planned on doing until his stomach forced him up, which considering the huge dinner he'd had the night before, and all the munchies afterwards, wouldn't be happening any time soon.

Grinning, he closed his eyes and buried his face in the pillow . . . then promptly groaned when the sound of a throat clearing met his ears. "I don't care who you are," he mumbled in annoyance, not bothering to raise his head so his words were slightly muffled by the stuffing beneath his mouth. "But I'm busy right now. Come back tomorrow, or next week." Pulling the pillow around his head the best he could, he proceeded to ignore the intruder. That was the plan at least.

There was a snort and then a very familiar voice spoke up. "Usually one would at least check to see who was here before dismissing the possibility of a threat. I expected better from you, Alex."

Sitting up and whipping his head around, his eyes widened when the man leaning against his bedroom wall came into focus. Tall, blonde hair, athletic build and a 'mess with me and die' vibe . . . that was definitely the assassin Yassen Gregorovich. There was a moment of silence while his brain tried to process things and then Alex shook his head. "I get it, this must be a dream," he said to no one in particular. "A really _weird_ dream seeing as it's you instead of someone I actually like, but a dream none the less. What a relief." Flopping back onto his bed, he closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. "For a second there I was worried I'd gone crazy, that I was seeing your ghost or something, but as this is simply a manifestation of my sleeping mind there's nothing to worry about."

"Do you always talk to yourself like this?" Yassen asked his tone sounding more amused that curious.

Waving a hand in the older man's direction, Alex snorted. "Dream or not, I've no desire to talk with you. Now go away so I can go back to sleep or . . . whatever the dream equivalent to sleeping is." Eyes still closed he pulled the comforter over his head, blocking out the rest of the world.

It was silent after that and Alex smiled to himself knowing he'd forced the other man out of his dream. Perhaps now he could think up someone more interesting like Tom, or Sabina, or maybe even both of them. He was just getting ready to change the dream's location to someplace more fun and exciting, like New York City or Paris, when he heard a shuffle coming from the other side of the room. A sense of dread fell over him as he slowly raised himself back into a sitting position, which changed to annoyance when he realized that Yassen was still there. "Why haven't you disappeared yet?" he demanded with narrowed eyes. "I willed you away so go, be gone." When Yassen merely raised an eyebrow he frowned. "Okay, what do I have to do to make you take a hike? I'd really rather not be stuck in a dream with you any longer than necessary."

Shifting slightly, Yassen crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Alex intently. "The longer I stand here the more disappointed I get," he said finally. "I'm beginning to wonder if you have anything of your father in you at all. First you ignore me and now you treat me as though I'm some sort of image you conjured up out of thin air. How long has it been since your last psych evaluation? You're not going crazy are you?"

"Would you stop acting all high and mighty?" Alex retorted. "Geeze, even in my head you're annoying." Rubbing his temples he tried to 'poof' the other man away, but like before nothing happened. "Look, I know you're dead, I _watched_ you die, so don't try to pretend you're real."

Yassen shook his head at the boy. "Who said anything about pretending to be real? I never said anything of the sort. I've simply been trying to figure out why you of all people haven't realized you're not asleep."

"Of course I'm asleep," Alex said with a roll of his eyes. "How else do you explain yourself?"

Looking down at his body, a slow smirk spread across the assassin's face. "So if I'm a figment of your imagination, how come I'm so realistic? Oh I know, you must've spent hours staring at me to get all of this detail. I mean you even know what style of shoes I wear and the color of my underwear . . . you naughty boy you."

That comment had Alex nearly falling out of bed in shock. "N-No, t-that's not . . . I m-mean . . . n-no . . ." Trailing off, he shook his head back and forth repeatedly. "No way! I'd never do that!" he finally managed to get out.

Yassen grinned at his reaction. "Of course you wouldn't, that's what I've been trying to get through to you," he explained slowly. "I'm not a figment of your imagination, or dreams, nor am I truly here."

When he failed to elaborate, Alex narrowed his eyes. "Then what exactly are you?"

"A ghost, naturally."

This time Alex did fall off the bed and the last thought that ran through his head before he passed out was that he really needed to lay off the energy drinks; they were obviously starting to fry his brain cells.

ooooo

A little less than an hour later Alex came to and it took him a second to figure out why he was currently sprawled out on his bedroom floor. "Oh yeah, I had a crazy dream where I thought I was seeing Yassen's ghost," he muttered out loud. "I must've fallen off the bed when my dream self freaked out." Nodding at the explanation he moved to stand up, tripping over his blankets in the process and landing ungracefully on his bed.

"You know for a spy you're not very quiet."

Not bothering to turn towards the voice, Alex covered his ears with his hands. "I can't hear you," he chanted childishly. "I can't hear you."

"And yet you're speaking to me now, imagine that," Yassen said, voice laced with sarcasm. When Alex continued his mutterings, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You know, I don't like this anymore than you do, but I'm stuck here so how about we make the most of things?"

". . . wait, stuck here? What do you mean 'stuck here'?"

Seeing the wide eyed look on the boy's face, he shrugged. "I have unfinished business here, hence the whole ghost thing, and since you were the last one to see me alive I'm trapped here with you until I can move on," Yassen said as if it were the most natural thing in the world for Alex to be conversing with a ghost.

Alex shook his head sharply. "No, no, no, this cannot be happening. I'm not crazy! I don't _see_ dead people, I don't even believe in ghosts! Maybe I ate some bad food; that would explain these messed up hallucinations. Or maybe someone from Scorpia's trying to poison me. Besides, why would I believe anything said by a figment of my imagination?"

"We've been over this already Alex," Yassen said sounding slightly annoyed. "I'm not some creation of yours, I'm a ghost. G-H-O-S-T. Say it with me now, g-h-o-s-t."

Pinching his arm Alex willed himself to snap out of whatever crazy dream world his mind had conjured up figuring pain would jolt him back to reality regardless of whether he was dreaming or hallucinating. Unfortunately all he wound up with was a very painful welt on his arm that was slowly turning a dark red. "Great, must be going crazy," he muttered.

While Alex tried to figure out what had caused him to go off the deep end Yassen remained against the wall with a look of utter boredom on his face, which quickly turned to annoyance when the boy began mumbling about strait jackets and asylums. Clearing his throat, he narrowed his eyes when he went completely ignored. "Enough," he growled, pushing away from his spot and stalking towards the bed. "If you don't believe me, see for yourself." Throwing out his arm he aimed a punch at Alex's face knowing full well that it would be blocked.

Seeing the incoming attack Alex raised his arms on instinct, eyes gaping open in shock when the assassin's hand passed right through his block as if his arms hadn't been there at all. Staring at the now smirking man, he blinked stupidly. ". . .b-but, h-how?!"

Yassen dropped his hand to his side with a snort. "Ghost, duh."

For the second time that day Alex's whole world went dark.

ooooo

This time when Alex woke up he was convinced there was something wrong with his brain, he thought he was seeing _ghosts_, and had every intention of rushing to the hospital for an MRI but the look on his poltergeist's face had him frozen in place. "Are you _smirking_ at me?!" he cried in outrage. "Do you think this is _funny_?! I'm seeing ghosts for crying out loud!"

"A ghost," Yassen said with a smirk. "Not ghosts. The 's' on the end signifies more than one and in case you've failed to realize this yet, I'm the only one here."

Glaring at the man's haughty tone Alex chucked a pillow at his head, frowning when it sailed through him without the slightest hesitation. "Just my luck," he grumbled as he rubbed his face in his hands. "I lose my mind and have no one to keep me company but your 'ghost'. What did I do to deserve this?"

"Really Alex, whining? Isn't that a bit childish?"

"Oh shut up!" Alex snapped back before slumping his shoulders in defeat. He was silent for a moment before continuing. "Fine, since I can't seem to get rid of you myself, no matter how hard I try, tell me what you need to get the hell out of my head."

"Do you really want to know?" Yassen asked curiously. Seeing the boy nod, he shrugged. "Very well, what I want is a . . . kiss."

Spluttering, Alex scrambled backwards on his bed as far as he could as he stared at the man aghast. "A w-w-what?!"

Yassen couldn't help it, he laughed. The boy's reaction was simply too much, all wide eyed and trembling. "Kidding," he said still chuckling softly. "It was just a joke."

With a fierce glare Alex relaxed slightly. His muscles were still tensed for a fight despite the fact that it wouldn't do him any good against a ghost, and he refused to move back to his previous position, but at least he wasn't shaking any more. "Not funny," he bit out. "Not funny at all."

"Maybe not for you," Yassen said, the smirk returning to his face. When the glare intensified, he held up his hands in surrender. "Very well, I promise to not tease you like that again." Alex continued to stare at him angrily so he decided to humor the boy. "Oh alright, I'll tell you what you want to know. In order for me to move on I'm supposed to help you with . . . something," he finished vaguely.

Alex raised an eyebrow at the man. "Wow, that's helpful. Care to be a bit more specific?" he asked sarcastically.

"I would if I could, but it's not like I was given an instruction manual when I was tossed here. I was told to help you, but when I asked what with all I got in response was I'd know when it happened. Those guys in charge of Hell were pretty tight lipped about everything," Yassen replied with an air of nonchalance.

Blinking several times, Alex swallowed slowly before speaking. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that last part and just focus on the whole 'you helping me' thing, otherwise I think my head might explode. So let me get this straight, you have absolutely no idea what it is you're supposed to help me with, and I'm stuck with you until you complete this unknown mission, sound about right?" Yassen nodded and he let his head fall back against the wall behind him. "Un-freakin'-believable," he grumbled. "I have the worst luck ever."

Yassen rolled his eyes. "You think you've got it bad," he said with a snort. "I'm the one who's stuck here with you, as a ghost mind you, for an indeterminate amount of time. When I found out I was going to Hell I had no idea how _bad_ it would really be. Me, a world renowned assassin, stuck with a fourteen year old boy who can't seem to keep himself out of danger. Yeah, _you_ have bad luck alright."

"Gee, sorry I'm causing _you_ so much trouble."

Ignoring the sarcasm, Yassen shook his head. "Enough of this, I have no desire to remain here any longer than necessary, and I'm sure you'd like to have your room back, so for now we're going to have to work together. Don't suppose you have any missions currently that you're struggling with?" A small shake of Alex's head had him tapping his chin in thought. "Well I don't know what else I can possibly help you with; it's not as if I know anything about teenage problems." Eyes widening, he paled slightly. "Please tell me you're not having relationship issues, there's no way I'm helping with something like _that_."

For the first time since he'd woken up to find the ghost in his room, Alex grinned. The look on Yassen's face when he'd asked that question had bordered on terrified, something he'd never thought he'd see on the man's face . . . truthfully he was surprised the assassin was able to do more than smirk or frown. "No, I'm not having any 'relationship issues'," he said with a smile. "And I'm perfectly happy with my life . . . when MI6 isn't screwing me over that is. I don't have any problems right now, besides you that is, so I guess we're just going to have to figure out some other way of getting you back to . . . wherever it is you came from."

"Brilliant plan," Yassen said sarcastically. "I'm sure those running Hell left a loophole that even a child could figure out." A fierce glare was sent his way and he snorted. "Excuse me, _teenager_."

Crossing his arms, Alex huffed. "I don't see you coming up with any ideas."

Growing more irritated with the boy by the second, he was allowed to be rude since he'd _died_, Yassen mimicked the other's pose. "For starters," he said in annoyance. "Why don't you get out of bed. I highly doubt whatever I'm supposed to help you with involves you being in nothing but your boxers."

Flushing a bright red, Alex had forgotten he hadn't gotten dressed yet, he yanked the nearest blanket up to his chin and glared at the older man. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?!" he demanded.

"Didn't seem relevant," Yassen replied with a shrug. "Besides, I kind of figured you'd know that with it being _your_ body and all."

Bristling at the insult, Alex clenched his fists tightly into the material around him. "Well excuuuuse me. I was a little busy being bothered by an annoying ghost when I woke up. My state of dress, or lack-there-of, wasn't really at the front of my mind."

"Honestly, you're a horrible excuse for a spy. You ignore threats, dismiss obvious signs of danger, and all while lounging around in your underwear. You wouldn't make it an hour on a _real_ mission, you'd be eaten alive."

Alex frowned. "Like you have any right to talk," he said angrily. "In case you forgot, _I_ survived against Damian Cray, you didn't. You've got no right criticizing me when you're the dead one here."

Yassen waved his hand dismissively. "A mere technicality, nothing more," he said with an air of superiority. "I was, and always will be, better than you. Your reactions today have proven as much." Shaking his head he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Enough of this bickering, it's getting us nowhere. Get dressed so we may venture out and deal with your problems."

"Don't tell me what to do," Alex snapped. "You're not my friend, or my father, you're a freakin' ghost! And right now I don't feel like going anywhere with you so beat it!" Rolling onto his side he burrowed under his blankets, pulling them over his head as though doing so would make the other man disappear.

"Stop being such a baby about everything, your whining is giving me a headache."

That comment was the last straw. With a snarl of rage Alex sat up and launched himself at the assassin, fully intending to strangle the jerk.

"Uh, I wouldn't do that if I . . ." Yassen trailed off as the boy went flying through him and plowed headfirst into the wall. When he slipped to the ground with a pained groan, the older man shook his head. "I tried to warn you."

ooooo

The first thing that went through Alex's head when he regained consciousness was that he was _really_ tired of blacking out. Three times in as many hours, had to be some kind of record. The second thing was that he was back in bed and his head surprisingly didn't hurt at all, and the third was that the dead assassin was nowhere to be seen, something that brought a huge smile to the young man's face. "I knew he was just some figment of my imagination," he said with a forced laugh. "It must've all been a dream."

"Who was a figment of your imagination?"

Whipping his head around, Alex released the breath he'd been holding when he spotted his redheaded guardian with an armful of folded clothes. "You'll never believe the dream I just had, thought I'd gone crazy for awhile there." Seeing Jack's amused look he continued. "Hey, you would too! I dreamt Yassen's ghost had come back to haunt me, though according to him he wanted to _help_."

"That's just silly Alex," Jack chuckled. "Everyone knows ghosts aren't real."

"Of course they're not," another voice added and all the blood drained from Alex's face. Watching as the assassin strolled into his room, the boy's eyes nearly popped out of his head when the man wrapped an arm around Jack's waist and smiled sweetly at her. "And imagining me dead; that's just plain hurtful. I am her fiancé after all."

It took a few seconds for the words to sink in. "WHAAAAAAAAAAAT?!"

ooooo

Jack looked up from the plate she was drying and shook her head. She'd tried to tell the boy last night that watching eight hours of ghost movies while stuffing himself on junk food was _not_ a good idea, but he'd ignored her as usual. "Serves him right getting nightmares like that," she said to herself. "Maybe next time he'll listen to me."


End file.
